


Clair de Lune

by pengiesama



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-11-13
Packaged: 2018-08-11 16:39:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7900063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pengiesama/pseuds/pengiesama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Vampire hunter Sorey's first hunt takes a rather unexpected turn when he is caught in a terrible storm and wakes up in an unfamiliar castle -- and then he encounters an achingly familiar face.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Simple Errand

**Author's Note:**

> This was part of a drabble meme I did on tumblr, prompt “Boo."

Sorey awoke, disoriented, in a bed that was most certainly not his own, in a room that was most certainly not his own. (Though he would have loved to ask its owner some questions about the gothic architecture.) He pressed a hand to his throbbing temple, trying to process what had happened.

He’d been called to a local town for a job. Vampire activity in the area, they were sure of it; the townspeople had contacted the Hunter’s Guild with all the money they could spare. Gramps had taken ages reading that letter, taking long, thoughtful puffs of his pipe. Then, he’d told Sorey to pack his things and head out. Sorey was baffled – he had barely completed his training, and had only been an assistant on hunts in the past. Surely Gramps would have preferred to send their top hunter Rose, or even his fellow graduate Alisha?

But no, Gramps was firm – this was a mission that only Sorey would be permitted to complete. Sorey, the foundling Gramps had taken in as a baby; Sorey, the lost little boy who’d begged Gramps to teach him the ways of hunting after his best friend was stolen away by vampires in front of his eyes. Sorey, who despite everything, could still not bear to deliver judgement to the beasts that preyed on humans.

He’d left the guild headquarters, and had been caught in a storm…he’d taken shelter in a nearby forest cave, too far off the path…then, then the ground fell out from under his feet…

Sorey shook his head, finally putting things together. He’d gotten caught in a net trap, probably walloped his head on the way up. It was obvious: whoever set the trap probably found him, and brought him here. And…had undressed him, leaving him naked in bed as his hunter’s cloak and garments lay hanging in front of the fireplace to dry. Sorey covered himself a bit more with the blankets, flushing down to his chest. Well, he’d be sure to thank them for the hospitality, and ask their forgiveness in ruining their day’s trapping work.

He heard footsteps approaching in the hall, and a hand on the doorknob—

“Boo.”

This was a dream. Sorey had plenty of these before – dreams where Mikleo was alive and by his side again, as beautiful as he was the day he was stolen away. Sorey had even had dreams that included the naked in bed factor. But oh, this was a dream Sorey could not bear, a dream where Mikleo was so deathly pale, with stark white hair and the scent of blood about him. His hunter’s training told him plainly what he was seeing: a demon in human form, hiding its deadly intent behind breathtaking beauty.

Gramps had always despaired at Sorey’s own lack of deadly intent. Sorey would only be disappointing him more today.

Sorey stared at Mikleo as he set the platter he was carrying on the stone floor, and slid it over to him; taking care not to draw too close. The platter was stacked with a pile of unidentified meat, steaming and fresh from the oven; accompanying it was a jug of water and…fresh creamy pudding with wild berries. _Oh, Mikleo. It’s you, it’s really you._

Sorey’s stomach growled, and he looked at the meat with hesitancy and naked hunger. Mikleo smiled tightly.

“Venison. I’m not much for catching humans. They’re usually not stupid enough to fall for my traps.”

Sorey’s heart begged him to forsake the meal before him and fling his arms around Mikleo’s tiny body, to bare his neck to him and beg for an end to this agony. Sorey’s stomach vetoed this course of action, and he hungrily dived out of bed and seized a piece of meat to stuff whole into his mouth. Mikleo turned to face the fire as he ate. The firelight danced across his alabaster skin, making him look almost – almost—

But he was alive, wasn’t he? He was here, back by Sorey’s side. And he could have so easily killed him as Sorey hung unconscious in the trap, soaked through by rain. He could have simply left him to freeze, but he’d brought him into his home, brought him food, brought him to his bed…

Sorey swallowed and looked down. The sheet had not followed with him much when he dived off the bed, and what was still on him was wrapped rather loosely around his waist. It was clear Mikleo had turned to the fire to spare him his dignity. As if he had any of that left after all this.

Carefully, as if approaching a wild animal, Sorey picked up his platter and crept closer to Mikleo. Mikleo’s eyes locked on to him as he approached, his entire body stiffening. As he drew closer and closer, Sorey could see Mikleo’s fingers clutched into his tunic, white and slender and trembling in fear.

Sorey sat next to him, setting the platter between them. His plate picked clean of meat, he picked up the berry pudding.

“We always shared dessert, didn’t we?” Sorey asked, softly.

Sorey reached out for Mikleo’s hand. Mikleo shied away. Sorey gave a crooked, hurt little smile.

“I understand. But I don’t know many vampires that would be scared of a naked hunter that gets caught in a deer trap.”

Ah, there – he could detect a smile tugging at the sides of Mikleo’s mouth.

It was a start.


	2. A Real Catch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mikleo is Mikleo, no matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I got a great response from the initial short bit, I'm gonna continue this piece. Thanks for all the encouragement!

There was just so much to talk about, to ask about, to tell Mikleo – all the sights and sounds and people and things he missed in those long five years. Sitting next to Mikleo, talking to him like this – warm, in front of a roaring fire, with the sound of rain pouring against the cobblestone outside – was something Sorey thought he’d never get to do again; something he’d reluctantly accepted would only happen in dreams.

There was just so much that Mikleo had missed.

And Sorey knew there was so much that he’d missed of Mikleo’s life as well, but he…wasn’t talking.

Sorey set his empty bowl on the platter, and tried to make Mikleo meet his eyes.

“…you, uh…you got something to eat tonight too, right?”

Sorey saw Mikleo’s jaw stiffen. Poor topic choice? Poor topic choice. At least Sorey didn’t voice that crack rattling around in his brain about not having to share his pudding anymore.

“…I did not,” Mikleo said, coolly. “But it doesn’t matter. You’ll find that we don’t need to eat as often as you do.”

Who was this “we”? Human, vampire, it didn’t matter – Mikleo was Mikleo and he was here by Sorey’s side, and he wouldn’t be losing him to anyone. Not again. Sorey’s heart twisted in restless anxiety, and he reached out for Mikleo again, helplessly.

His hand stopped in mid-reach. Mikleo was right there, and yet, he still seemed so untouchable. Mikleo stared into the firelight as he spoke, the golden light reflecting in his violet eyes.

“If I can catch a full-grown buck I’ll have a full stomach for half a month. I’m usually not that lucky. Generally, I make do with whatever foolish creatures bumble into my traps. I was hoping you were something with a bit more meat on you,” Mikleo continued. His eyes darted to the side to regard Sorey briefly. His mouth twitched again. “…you’re still a bit too boney for my tastes.”

It was so easy to fall back into their old banter. Sorey immediately seized upon the bait.

“Who’s boney?” Sorey scoffed, flexing one arm. “Gramps still likes to hand out chore duty whenever he catches me up and reading past curfew. I’m the finest wood-chopper in the whole guild.”

The small smile disappeared from Mikleo’s face, and he seemed to retreat into himself.

“…so, you really did join the guild. I was wondering what you were doing out all this way.”

Sorey had all but forgotten the details of the errand that had brought him back to Mikleo. The town with the vampire problem; petitioning and pleading for the aid of the Hunter’s Guild to save them from certain damnation. Well. Surely they wouldn’t be expecting him in weather like this. Sorey scratched at his head sheepishly, wincing as he came in contact with the bump on his noggin.

“Yeah, I…I trained with the guild. It gave me something to focus on, you know? Without you there, after you got – taken, I just…Gramps sent me on my first job, and I got lost…”

_The illustrious Hunter’s Guild! Defend the innocent against the ravaging hordes seething at the gates! See the sights, get the glory, bring justice to the land!_ Whatever excuses and explanations came to Sorey’s mind, they didn’t seem to hold much weight with Mikleo sitting next to him in…his current state.

It wasn’t Mikleo. It wasn’t and couldn’t be Mikleo at the heart of that town’s problems, Sorey knew from the start. It wasn’t Mikleo binging on the lives of the townspeople; Mikleo, who holed himself up in this ruined castle, living hand-to-mouth on rats and squirrels. It twisted Sorey’s heart to see him so thin and underfed – surely if there were vampires out there like Mikleo, they deserved to live in the same comforts he and his fellow guild members enjoyed instead of being hunted down alongside their less moral brethren.

In the past, he’d have eagerly shared his thoughts with Mikleo as they flowed across his mind, discussing and debating until the morning light. The words died on Sorey’s lips before they could even take form. Mikleo seemed cold and as unreachable as a half-recalled dream. Sorey had suffered through those awful five years, alone and lost to his own thoughts, but it was clear Mikleo had suffered far worse.

Mikleo made an irritated noise, shocking Sorey out of his thoughts.

“If you’re going to keep trying to grab me, can you at least put your clothes back on? You’re going to catch a cold with the weather like this.”

Sorey felt his grin threaten to split his face.

“Well, I dunno…” Sorey said. “I think I’ve kind of gotten accustomed to it, you know? The feeling of these cold stone floors on my butt is really invigora--”

Mikleo interrupted him by hurling his now-dry trousers in his face. He threw his hunter’s cloak over his head to punctuate his point. Sorey heard huffing, and the rustle of fabric; his neatly-folded tunic was shoved into his hands last of all.

“Your boots are still drying,” Mikleo said curtly. “And your socks had holes. Don’t they teach you how to darn in between the ax-throwing and mystic chants?”

Sorey tugged his cloak down, draping it around his shoulders. He looked at Mikleo, really _looked_ at Mikleo – from the curve of his cheek to the color of his eyes, from his graceful hands to his slim frame, he had grown, certainly, and yet, he was somehow exactly as Sorey remembered him. Nothing had changed between them. Nothing would.

(The hair color was a new addition to the mix, Sorey amended. Dark brown hair had suited Mikleo well but something about the white really made Mikleo’s features pop in a new and wonderful way. He couldn’t help but approve.)

“Sorry. I was never a good student in tailoring class,” Sorey said.

“Some things never change,” Mikleo sighed. “I’ll darn them for you, I suppose. Go back to sleep and I’ll have them ready in the morning.”

\--

Sorey awoke the next morning welcoming the day as he hadn’t in years. He whistled to himself as he dressed, heart light and feet warm with the expertly-mended socks he’d found folded neatly atop his dried boots. The day was still damp and dark, a fine mist rolling in through the trees as Sorey ventured outside, knife at his hip and bow at his back. Mikleo might have the edge on Sorey in trap-making and sock-mending, but Sorey had five years of outdoor survival training under his belt – and a firm determination to come back with a feast fit for a king.

He scaled a sturdy tree and scanned for motion through the fog. It shortly became abundantly clear why Mikleo’s traps were coming up short: the surrounding forest was as barren and quiet as a tomb. Neither sound nor shadow broke through the mist – even the fluttering of wings was missing from the treetops. Questions and anxiety began to flit through Sorey’s mind: how did Mikleo find himself in this crumbling ruin in the middle of this dead forest? And how much longer did he intend on staying there, slowly wasting away on a dwindling diet of rats?

And most of all – how did he survive that terrible night, five years ago?

Movement broke Sorey out of his reverie, and his bow lifted on instinct. There – the shadow of a young buck wandering in the distance, stumbling strangely as if transfixed by some spell. Sorey hesitated as the buck staggered into range, tossing its head as if trying to shake off the buzzing of an invisible swarm of flies. He’d set out to get Mikleo a meal, but coming back with a diseased kill would hardly be better than coming back empty-handed. He thought back to his guild training, desperately. Vampires could not fall ill to human ailments, so perhaps even a catch struck with sickness would be able to bring up Mikleo’s strength; enough for Mikleo to gather his things and come with Sorey on his errand. And then – and then when they’d struck down the threat to the village together, they’d return to the guild. Gramps would be sure to accept Mikleo back with open arms, no matter what he was…and then, they’d build a place of their own, to live together and read together like old times –

The buck let out an agonized wail and fell to the forest floor. It convulsed briefly, then stilled and fell silent. Sorey slowly, quietly slid down from his perch, bow still at the ready. As he approached the fallen buck, he kept an arrow trained on its head, and paused as he came within a dozen paces. The buck’s eyes stared off into nothingness, and its body no longer showed the motion of breath. Sorey despaired. He had struck out confidently to play the hero and save Mikleo from another hungry night, and had hoped to return dragging a morbid parade of dead stags behind him. Perhaps wrestle a bear into submission while Mikleo swooned at the window. Instead, he had come up with nothing but a single sickly buck.

A memory came to the surface of the time in their childhood when Sorey had gone out alone to gather wildflowers to add to their scrapbook, and returned with an impressive haul of poison ivy. Mikleo spent the whole week mixing salves and drawing baths to soothe Sorey’s awful itchy nightmare. Sorey was certain that Mikleo would bring up that incident if he hauled this catch back to his doorstep, but with the forest as it was, it was clear that Sorey would have to take this catch or return empty-handed. Sorey shot an arrow between the buck’s eyes for safety’s sake, and reluctantly unraveled a length of rope from his pack to tie up the catch to bring back home.

\--

The ruined castle was a pretty cool hideout, Sorey had to admit. It was drafty and crumbling, but the gothic architecture that still stood was splendid to behold. Sorey dragged his catch through the overgrown gardens, admiring the weather-worn statuary and the spiraling rusted iron gates. He’d have to ask Mikleo if he knew anything about the history of the place – it looked to be an abandoned residence of some sort, to be sure, but of course it could be an old hunting estate, or a club of some sort for aristocrats of centuries past. He’d beg for a tour before he and Mikleo packed up and headed out, that was for certain.

Despite the fancy architecture, the castle was not terribly large, and it was easy to pinpoint the general area where Mikleo was probably sleeping – one area of the castle was considerably less ruined than most, and that was the wing Sorey had awakened in. Sorey idly wandered through the halls, marveling at the crumbling frescos and shattered busts, dragging his limp catch behind him like a sleepwalking child dragging a blanket.

As he walked, he peeped into each room he encountered – that one was too drafty, that one too bright, this one too wrecked by age. Soon, he found a locked door. He pressed his ear to the keyhole, and his heart skipped at the faint sound of sleeping breaths within. He swallowed hard, and then knocked, equally hard. And loud. And repeatedly, until he heard footsteps and the sound of locks sliding open. The door creaked open a hair, and Sorey could just barely glimpse Mikleo’s face through the slit. Sorey beamed at him. Mikleo glowered and did not open the door further.

“Some of us do not have the luxury of sleeping through the night,” Mikleo said, voice thick with sleep. “If you’re thanking me for your socks, thanks already accepted and please show yourself out.”

“Well I’m thanking you again, and went to get you some breakfast.” Sorey gestured behind him, somewhat sheepishly. “It’s…it’s not much, and I don’t know if it’s safe to eat, but you…you might have less trouble than most, but just be--”

Mikleo’s eyes were locked on the limp body of the deer behind him. He’d let the door creak open absently, no longer paying attention to shutting Sorey out, no longer paying attention to Sorey’s words, his eyes growing dark and pupils blown wide.

“Sorey.” Mikleo’s voice was tight, trembling, and firm. “Please, go into my room and lock the door behind you. Please cover your ears and don’t come out.”

Sorey’s heart twisted with shame at the shiver of fear that went down his spine as Mikleo stalked past him, his gaze never breaking from the deer’s corpse. It was just Mikleo. It was just Mikleo. He would always be Mikleo, no matter what happened. Sorey repeated it like a mantra as he shut himself in Mikleo’s dark bedroom, locking the door behind him. The second the lock clicked into place, he heard the awful sound of teeth and wet meat. In the pitch blackness of the bedroom, Sorey covered his ears and prayed for Mikleo to finish soon.

It seemed to take ages before Sorey could no longer hear the faint sounds of slick viscera through the covering of his palms. He paused, cautiously lowered his arms, waiting through the silence for Mikleo’s voice. When it did not come, he knocked on the door again, gently this time.

“…Mikleo? Are you done?”

Sorey strained his ears for his reply. Faint, exhausted panting was the only sound he could pick out. Concerned, Sorey fumbled in the darkness to undo the locks.

“Mikleo? Are you okay? I’m coming out--”

As Sorey began to open the door, it slammed shut from the other side, as if Mikleo had hurled his entire weight against it. Shocked, Sorey fell back onto his palms.

“Don’t,” Mikleo choked out. “Not done. Don’t look at me. Don’t come out, even if I call for you.”

Sorey quietly nodded, as if Mikleo could see the gesture. He rested his forehead against the thick wood of the door and shut his eyes.

“Lock the door and don’t let me in.”

Sorey slid the lock shut.


	3. Red and the Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey and Mikleo disagree on the point of Mikleo slowly starving himself to death, and the cavalry approaches.

Sorey didn’t know how long he sat in that dark room. When the awful noise from the hall finally quieted, when he no longer could hear Mikleo’s ragged sobs for breath between the sounds of tearing flesh, when Sorey finally got the courage to unlock the door and open it a crack, Mikleo was nowhere to be found. The deer, also.

…most of it, anyway. Sorey tried not to focus on the stray entrails, heaped and splatted against the walls as if hurled with great force by a child with picky tastes. He struck out down the hall, following the streaks of blood – determined to find Mikleo, and determined to drag him from this dying place by any means necessary.

It just didn’t make sense. Sorey followed the morbid trail, feeling a bit foolishly self-conscious as his boots tracked bloody prints down the ancient halls. Mikleo said he didn’t need to eat as often as a human, but surely the meager offerings of the dead forest weren’t enough to sustain him for those five long years. And that deer, wandering among the trees as if possessed, dropping stone dead at Sorey’s feet like manna from heaven…there had been nothing else around for miles, and it seemed to have been that way for ages.

How had Mikleo survived like this?

He heard the sounds of wet, dripping, dragging flesh. Sorey rounded the corner and caught sight of Mikleo.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing his slim white wrists and delicate fingers. They looked so lovely, such a contrast to the gnarled heap of meat he strained to drag behind him. Mikleo heard his approach. He lowered his head further, turning slightly toward Sorey. He made no further movement, no further noise. He simply appeared to wait for the inevitable.

_“Vampires get food comas just like you and me, kiddo,” Rose explained. It was an honor for the guild’s top hunter to want to tutor him directly, but Sorey suspected she was doing it out of pity. “If you find one that’s desperate for a meal, bait it with a fresh wild animal, and then move in once they’re napping it off. One clean hit to the heart with a stake.”_

Mikleo brought up a weak, shaking hand to unfasten the buttons on his shirt. Turning to Sorey, he exposed his chest. The blood smearing his face was further streaked with tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He closed his eyes.

Sorey drew his hunter’s knife and tossed it to the ground. He loosed the strap securing his bow and quiver, letting the arrows with their silver tips clatter to the stone floor. He discarded his pack filled with phials of blessed water and carefully-labeled herbal wards, each one so thoroughly explained by Gramps as he tucked them into Sorey’s hands: garlic, verbena, poppy, rose petals. Mikleo’s face flinched at each sound; his eyes still squeezed shut, fresh tears beginning to streak the blood on his face anew.

 “Mikleo,” Sorey said, low and soothing, as if coaxing back a scared stray lamb. “I won’t hurt you. You know I won’t.”

Mikleo barked out a loud, sharp sound; not quite a laugh or a sob. “Amazing. You’re crueler than I ever expected you to be,” he said. “Why are you still here, then? To give a demon beggar a warm meal before you strike off to perform more heroic deeds? I’ll have to ask you to leave my name out of your memoirs. I think Gramps would probably prefer I remain dead.”

Arguing just like old times – Sorey would be elated if he wasn’t so incensed. He stormed forward, nearly slipping on the stray giblets of meat that had come loose from the pile, and seized Mikleo by the shoulders. Mikleo didn’t even try to run away – perhaps his depleted strength wouldn’t allow it – he simply stared at Sorey through defiant violet eyes.

“Do you seriously think I’m leaving you here?” Sorey demanded. “Do you seriously think Gramps, and I, and everyone else doesn’t miss you every day? For god’s sake, Mikleo, stop wasting away here and come home--”

This time, Mikleo really did laugh, loud and hysterical, the sound ringing like bells off the high ceilings. Wild-eyed and covered in blood, he might have cut a terrifying figure if Sorey didn’t want to just slap him.

“Come home!?” he wheezed. “Oh, of course! I’ll just pack my things and go waltzing back with you to guild headquarters! I’m sure I’ll get a warm, _warm_ welcome, maybe even get offered a drink or two before getting burned at the stake--”

“Don’t say things like that! They wouldn’t do that to you!” Sorey pleaded, almost trying to convince himself as much as Mikleo. “You can’t stay here, just, alone and starving to death--”

“Says who?” Mikleo asked, quietly. He plucked Sorey’s hands off his shoulders. “Don’t you have an errand to run, mister hunter?”

Sorey’s lips pressed together in a firm line. “I do,” he said coolly.

_And I’ll be back by tomorrow evening to drag you away kicking and screaming, and I’ll build us a little cottage outside of town, and life will be grand, and we’ll figure it out.,_ Sorey’s mind finished the thought.

Mikleo plucked at his bloodstained clothes to straighten them out, and glided past Sorey. “Then I’ll show you out. Gather your things off the floor, if you would. Safe travels.”

\--

_You’re killing me, old man…,_ Rose griped as she trudged down the path with her babysittee in tow.

Rose liked to consider herself a solid asset to the Hunter’s Guild. She was damn good at what she did, and had the numbers and track record to prove it – she could bag six rogue vampires, lasso a bucking kelpie, string up a band of banshees by their toes, and be back in time for brunch. She paid her dues to the Guild’s coffers, and the rest went to her other business ventures…

…and those other business ventures, unfortunately, seemed to be arousing Zenrus’ suspicions lately. Sure, Rose hadn’t exactly told him what her side hustle was. It really wasn’t his concern what she did with her spare time, in her opinion. It didn’t interfere with her Guild jobs, and didn’t cut into the Guild’s business. And really, it was in the spirit of the Guild’s mission statement: exterminating evil and defending the innocent. If it came down to it, she’d let Zenrus have his monopoly on the supernatural side of the equation, and she’d continue to process more (or less) human threats.

But she really hoped it didn’t come to that. She liked pulling two paychecks.

Though maybe she should be pulling in a third paycheck as a nanny, considering how maybe newbies she’d been having to babysit lately. Rose glanced to the side. Alisha Diphda, twenty-seventh daughter of some noble house; so low on the pecking order of succession that she was only good for marriage stock. Apparently she’d been caught pulling a runaway stunt and was crossdressing to join the kingdom’s knights; she was on the fast track to being sent off to a nunnery, but somehow managed to convince the family bigwigs to let her join a guild, of all things – with her honey-blonde curls and summer green eyes, Alisha didn’t quite fit the image of the typical guild member, but she made up for it in exceedingly earnest determination.

Alisha finally noticed Rose’s gaze, and came to a dead stop from marching to salute her. “Ma’am! Nothing to report in the woods, ma’am! I’ll continue to scan our surroundings!”

She saluted again, and resumed her march, peering around the two of them into the surrounding woods like a small, excitable hawk.

…it was kind of embarrassing to watch. Pretty cute, too. Alas, Rose didn’t think Alisha had what it took to join her side gig; plus, she already had a small but dedicated crew to support.

Still a shame. Rose slowed down a few paces to observe Alisha’s ass as she marched. A real shame.

“So, Diphda,” Rose began. “Old man Zenrus is sending the two of us on a mission to the same exact town he sent Sorey to last night. What’s your take on that?”

Alisha continued to march and scan the woods. “Ma’am! I was not aware we had sent other soldiers to our target location, ma’am! Perhaps Sir Zenrus sent Sorey as a scouting agent, ma’am!”

“Diphda, you’re not in the knights anymore. Knock off that ma’am business before you get sent on a road trip with someone less nice.”

Rose clasped a hand on Alisha’s shoulder and grinned.

“You’re in a guild now! You gotta get rough like the rest of us plebes. Lemme hear your best shot!”

Alisha went pale, then red. “…I…I…”

“C’mon! Let’s hear you start swearing like a sailor. Say ‘fuck’!”

Alisha’s lips pressed together in a thin line. Her mind was clearly waging a war against itself: to remain loyal to her superiors, or to remain loyal to her squeaky-clean mouth?

“F…fu…patooie,” Alisha finally squeaked out. Her hands flew to her mouth, scandalized.

Embarrassing. But cute.

If Alisha had been paying attention to anything but the slow degradation of her upstanding morals, she might have sensed movement in the trees. Rose would have been truly impressed if she’d managed to detect the presence that had been stalking them since they’d left the confines of the guild headquarters. It was probably for the best, though – Alisha would surely have made a scene, and Rose would have to put on a show of driving the terrible beast away, and he’d get in one of his pissy little moods.

Rose groaned and thumped Alisha on the back. “Stay here a sec, Diphda. Nature’s calling. Stay on the roadside and check out the map a bit to make sure we’re on track, okay?”

Alisha saluted again, and seized the map from her pack to inspect dutifully. Her cheeks were still burning from her outburst.

Rose wandered off into the trees, heading into the brush – it was best for Alisha to not see her, but she wanted to still keep an eye on her to make sure she didn’t get distracted fending bandits off a merchant caravan, or saving a puppy from a burning building. A presence approached her from behind, familiar to Rose as her own shadow.

The wolf was as big as a draft horse. Its coal-black fur streaked with white, and the skin of its back was rough with old scars. Its milky white eyes seemed to bore right through Rose. Blind as a bat, but with ears and a nose as sharp as a knife – and the best enforcer a budding businesswoman could ask for. Rose was already on Zenrus’ naughty list for the whole side-business thing, so what would keeping up her partnership with a werewolf hurt? Nothing sent vampires into a terrified frenzy quite as much as showing up with him in tow. It was kind of a hoot to watch.

“How’s it hangin’?” asked Rose. She patted his neck fluff.

Dezel huffed through his muzzle, offended at the feeling of being petted. He got offended at many things and Rose knew he would get over it.

“Your guildmate came through this way yesterday. Got caught in the storm and stumbled into the cursed area of the woods. Could only track him for so far before I had to turn back. There’s a vampire lair at the center – he might be chow at this point.”

Rose grimaced. No matter how many hunters fell in the line of duty, it never got easier to hear about it. Especially when it was just a kid like Sorey…Sorey, who didn’t have a Hunter bone in his body. Rose had no idea what Zenrus was thinking when he sent Sorey out – didn’t he love Sorey like his own son? Hadn’t he already lost another one, just like this? And to send him out in secret, only to send her and Alisha out on the same mission the very next day – it was if he expected him to fail. Zenrus had always been a crafty old coot, but Rose had never known him to be so…cold.

Rose hoped the vampire shacked up in that dead forest enjoyed the meal. She’d come back after this mission and make sure it was their last. Still, she had to focus on their current mission, lest Alisha meet the same fate.

“What’ve those little doggy ears of yours heard about the problems in this town we’re visiting?” Rose asked.

Dezel had been eavesdropping on them for their entire walk, and needed no further briefing on mission details.

“Villagers getting lured into the woods and turning up dead and drained of blood. Obvious vampire activity, but nothing that your guild needs to send three hunters to solve. I’d call that the most suspicious part of the situation.”

“I’m with you there,” Rose said. “Stick close to us and we’ll see what old man Zenrus is up to this time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> roseali is a balanced part of your trashy vampire AU diet, so are werewolves


	4. The Night of the Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hunters reunite for the chase, and the blade of justice moves inexorably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! Yes I'm still writing this! At least until I can get Mikleo to take his panties off.

He loved Sorey. He loved Sorey more than anything – certainly more than himself, monster that he was – and nothing, not distance, not time, would change that.

That didn’t mean that Mikleo couldn’t also find him completely obnoxious.

Mikleo continued to fume silently as he prepared what was left of the deer; running on a half-day’s sleep and a half-cocked blood high. It wasn’t enough that Sorey had to wreck one of his traps and get his hopes up for a big catch, no. Sorey had to come in here, wonderful and warm and alive, bright and scalding as the sun, ranting about how things could go back to the way they were.

Sorey had no idea, _none_ , of what he’d gone through, of what he’d done, of what he _was_. He had some god damn nerve to play savior – as if Mikleo had been just waiting in this crumbling castle all these years, damseling his time away on the loom and harpsichord, desperate for a prince to drag in a dead animal for him to tear into. Then the white horse, into the sunset, happily as ever before.

Sorey was in a world Mikleo could no longer reach. The sooner he accepted that, the easier it would be for him to move on with their lives.

Or whatever passed for a life, in Mikleo’s case. Mikleo wrapped the last of the meat in butcher’s paper, and tucked it into his satchel. Once night fell, he’d make his delivery to the nearby town – they felt the gnawing pain of this curse-brought famine even more keenly than he did. Every catch he made was shared with them; anonymous care packages of jerky and salted meat set at the doors and windows of the poorest houses of the town. He was just one gangly little monster, after all, and certainly didn’t need a full deer weighing him down. He wondered if the townspeople would still accept the gifts, knowing where they’d come from.

He set another satchel of supplies aside in a conspicuous place in the kitchen, and tucked a note into the front pocket. He was certain Sorey would come looking for him after his errand was done, and Mikleo would have to make himself scarce until he got the message or lost interest, whichever came first. The satchel had jerky, water, a few books he’d always wanted to share with Sorey, and a note advising him to not search for him. It was irritating to have to leave his own home – if it could even count as a home – as Mikleo had quite a lot of errands himself, and writing to do besides. However, Mikleo could at least pride himself on being a gracious host.

Mikleo wrapped himself in a thick, obscuring travel cloak, and hoisted his bag over his shoulder. He peered at the wan light filtering through the boarded windows. Night would fall soon, and he would set off to make his delivery to the town that Sorey was almost certainly headed toward on an errand that would almost certainly place him in mortal danger.

Of course, it was simply coincidence that Mikleo was dead set on making this delivery tonight. The townspeople needed relief, and perhaps it would be best if Mikleo was there to supervise Sorey’s mission from the shadows. A fellow vampire could be reasoned with, maybe, or cowed into submission…or subdued, if it came to it. Sorey would return to the guild, healthy and whole, the town would be at peace, and Mikleo would be able to get back to his life. It was simply logical.

Mikleo stared at the light coming through the windows, feeling each anxious minute tick by until the veil of night.

\--

Rose was old hat at negotiating contract terms, and had had to tangle with some pretty unsavory characters in her time. This town’s mayor didn’t quite make the top ten list of scumbags, but he was certainly an honorable mention.

“Yes, well, I know my citizens promised a thousand gald, but our fair town needs to take its fair share. With this awful famine striking us, we must extract a tax to support the restoration efforts.” The mayor scratched his scraggled beard, and coughed lightly. “The offer is five hundred. We simply can give no more.”

Rose hmmed thoughtfully. “Yeah, I heard there’s been some pretty bad crop failures in the region. Funny that you’ve got a pretty swanky setup here, though.”

The mayor frowned at her over their dinner spread. Wine, meat, fresh fruit and vegetables – certainly not the meager bread rations Rose had seen the citizens carrying to their homes from distribution carts.

“The townsfolk expect that their officials enjoy a bit of luxury with the honor of the office, especially when entertaining strange guests.” The mayor lifted his wineglass and narrowed his eyes at Rose over the rim. “I’m certain that your guildmaster would love to discuss the matter with you when I tell him of your concerns.”

Rose could barely suppress her laughter at that. Oh man, if Zenrus met this chump, he’d have him weeping on the floor and kissing his gnarled little feet in ten seconds flat. As if this greasy slimebucket could roll out of his chair that quickly, anyway.

Alas, Rose couldn’t let herself get distracted with daydreaming when there was someone trying to screw her out of her paycheck. She opened her mouth to redirect the conversation to money and the paying her thereof.

“Have you officially filed for emergency aid from the capital?” Alisha interrupted. “I seem to recall seeing the petition come across the desk when I served there.”

The mayor stopped mid-drink. Alisha steamed on.

“Emergency aid funds are earmarked for relief purposes only, and misappropriation or hoarding of supplies is a misdemeanor against the crown – if, sir mayor, you are guilty of these crimes, our eyewitness testimony as members of a crown-accredited guild is more than enough to have you brought before the council and--”

The mayor slammed down his cup. “A thousand gald,” he grumbled. “As discussed. I expect results by morning.”

Down payment in hand and signed contract safe in her pouch, Rose smacked Alisha on the back as they strolled out into the front room of the town hall.

“Nice negotiating! You’ll be a fine, upstanding guild member yet,” Rose said with a grin.

Alisha, for her part, gazed up at Rose mournfully. “…I…I didn’t actually see it.”

Rose raised an eyebrow. Alisha’s voice wavered as she continued in a rush.

“The town’s petition. When I served in the capital. I, I didn’t see it on any desk, I was still too low-ranked to have access to any of those documents, I, I lied in there, but--” Her fists clenched. “I am _certain_ , utterly certain, that he is misappropriating relief meant to support these townsfolk, and I will not rest until the town is free of both the vampire menace and that man’s own vile bloodsucking ways--”

“Whoa, slow down.” Rose grabbed Alisha by the arm and got them walking to the front door; out of earshot of other officials. “You’re right, fair to assume – did you see that chump’s face when you called him out? Plus you got us our fair payment with that little bit of expert blackmail.”

Alisha removed her head from her hands and gaped at Rose. “…ma’am, with all due respect, can we accept funds from a populace that’s so desperate?”

Rose groaned. “Diphda, please don’t start. We’ve got families to feed, too. We can’t get into the habit of giving freebies, even when times are tough. They’re tough for everyone.”

Alisha lowered her head. “…then respectfully, ma’am, I will decline payment for my work on this job, and redirect it to the town’s relief funds.”

“And direct it right into Mayor Slimebucket’s pockets,” Rose said. “Listen, I can’t tell you what to do with your money. But just remember that you’re here to do a job, and you’ve got to look out for yourself, too.”

Alisha’s green eyes began to glisten, but her jaw was set in a firm line. There was just nothing that could get through the thick skulls of her kind. Nothing but time and experience.

“Let’s go. We’ve got a job to do.”

Rose opened the door, full of determination: determination to get the job done fast, to get her money, and to get on the road to pay a visit to that vampire that killed Sorey; innocent, soft-hearted Sorey, who was…

…standing right in front of them as the door opened, arm raised and poised to knock.

\--

Sorey had stormed the whole way from the castle to the town, working up an impressive froth, and mentally writing the speech he’d give to Mikleo when he came back from his job to bring him home. It had a lot of great points in it, if Sorey did say so himself. Points like “stop being so stupid” and “stop being so stubborn”. Points like “how can you be this selfish” and “do you think this only affects you”. Points like “a part of me died when you were taken away” and “I can’t bear to lose you again” and “I love you, I love you, please, I love you”.

Mikleo had always been the better writer of the two, but Sorey would make up for the skill gap in earnestness. And a net and rope, if it came down to it. He didn’t know what Mikleo was doing, starving himself to death slowly, but there was certainly no way that Sorey would let it continue. It didn’t matter how much time passed, or what Mikleo had become. It would work – it would work _somehow_.

As it happened, angry speechwriting was a decent way to make the long walk go by quicker, and Sorey soon found himself at the town he should have been at yesterday evening. He reeked of sweat and was in little mood to make small talk with the town officials – but, the faster he got the formalities over with and the facts about the attacks, he’d be able to track the culprit down and be back at Mikleo’s doorstep to drag him home by the ankles. 

He raised his fist to pound on the door of town hall, and found himself face-to-face with Rose and Alisha.

Rose looked like she’d seen a ghost, which rapidly became Sorey’s primary concern. It was quite strange that the Hunter’s Guild, bastion against the supernatural and paranormal, had a top hunter with a crippling fear of ghosts. Very strange indeed, a small part of Sorey’s mind observed. The rest of his mind was preoccupied with Rose screaming loud enough to rattle the windows in the panes of the surrounding houses, and hurling the contents of her holy water phials at Sorey’s face.

“I’LL AVENGE YOU! I’LL AVENGE YOU! JUST GIMME A FEW DAYS, OKAY!? JUST GIMME A FEW DAYS!” Rose howled through her terrified tears.

“Miss Rose! Ma’am!” Alisha cried, trying to corral Rose’s flailing limbs with her own. “Please! It’s just Sorey!”

Since when did getting sidetracked for a day or so mean that you were given up for dead? Sorey wiped his face on his travelling cloak, and tried to rein in his foul mood enough to give Rose a tight, reassuring smile.

“I’m fine! I’m alive! Just got a little sidetracked because of the storm last night, that’s all.”

Rose narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously, and flicked a little more holy water at him with her fingers, just in case. Sorey remained in place, unbanished, mildly perturbed, and moist. Rose extricated herself from Alisha’s hold slowly.

“…I see,” she said, seemingly still not fully convinced. She reached out, slowly, and gave Sorey’s chest a quick jab. She found it notably non-opaque, but still eyed Sorey with a strange skepticism. “…we’ve already got some info from the mayor. Let’s set up a base at the inn and fill you in.”

Sorey was eager to get right down to business to get the job over with, and at the inn, was happy to hear of Rose and Alisha’s efforts at the town hall. It was good that they’d handled contract negotiations – Sorey himself was awful with money.

He wouldn’t tell them about his encounter with Mikleo. Not yet. Who knows how they’d react – Alisha was unshakable when she put her mind to something, and Rose was so old hat at hunting that she’d probably tell Sorey it was all a trick, and then she’d…she might…yes, he’d wait to tell them. They’d know soon enough, when he came back to the guild with Mikleo.

“…and so while that chump was busy flapping his jowls about how he was only gonna pay us half – can you even believe that nerve, Sorey? Even when I took that job with the gnome riot they only tried to gouge us twenty percent – Alisha was sitting pretty brewing up a blackmail plan, and showed him what’s what.”

Alisha sat gazing emptily at the table. Sorey could empathize with the feeling at the moment.

“…anyway,” Rose continued, her efforts to fire up her charges in vain. “We got some intel from him as well. Times and dates of the attacks, locations, reports from the guards. I figure we go around town and ask around before night falls, then start from there.”

Sorey and Alisha nodded minutely. Rose rubbed her temples.

“Okay, let’s start that now. Both of you stop moping and hit the streets. We’ll meet up before sunset to pool our info.”

\--

This job was getting more complicated by the second, and Rose was beginning to regret only doing it for a thousand – especially now that it was getting split three ways.

She’d noticed the gifts on the windowsills of the poorest houses: gifts of flowers, of small beautiful stones, of herbs and small baked goods. According to those she asked on the streets, these were offerings; offerings to the benevolent spirit that left food at their doorsteps in this time of such sorrows. None had seen this spirit in action, but its efforts had kept the town from death – for now, Rose thought to herself.

Rose wanted to believe that the intentions of this phantom meat Santa Claus were benevolent, but it was hard to quash the suspicions of a link between vampire activity in the area with the actions of this mysterious entity. Maybe it was just a rogue fur trapper with a generous streak. Rose couldn’t help but be pessimistic – she couldn’t put it past a vampire to tempt starving people out of their homes at night with gifts.

Still, she’d reserve judgement until she consulted with her eyes and ears on the parameter – or her nose and ears, anyway. Once she was safely within the forest’s cover, she heard Dezel approach.

“Your friend reeks of blood,” Dezel said. “Deer blood, specifically. No idea how he managed that; the herds fled the forest months ago. Vampire scent on him, too. Got real up close and personal with one.”

“Well, wonder why that didn’t come up over drinks,” Rose said. Sorey was a humble kid, but he was also a blabbermouth, and was awful at keeping secrets. She knew that something was up with him at the inn, but this info just added to the confusion. She’d thought he was maybe sore about arriving late, getting lost, having to share his first job with two other people unannounced…

Rose paused. She slanted a look at Dezel out of the corner of her eyes.

“…he’s like, definitely alive though, right? Not a ghost?”

Dezel’s muzzle twitched. Swear to god, if he laughed at her, she was cutting off their arrangement for a solid month. He could get his pastry fix somewhere else—

“Alive. And not a ghost.”

Rose breathed a sigh of relief. You could never be too careful. Even if it meant unloading all your holy water on someone.

As it stood, night was falling fast. Rose turned back to the town.

“Keep your nose out for anyone suspicious around the town tonight. I wanna get this place cleaned up in more ways than one.”

Get reacquainted with some contacts in the capital, check out Alisha’s bluff on the town’s petition for emergency supplies, and see if that mayor had any enemies willing to set down a deposit on taking care of him personally – Rose would make back what she lost sharing this job between three people and then some.

Alisha’s green eyes flashed in her mind, unbidden.

…and she’d invest the funds into the town’s restoration.

Damn babysitting gig.

\--

The worst part was the waiting. Sorey’s whole body itched to do _something_ – to get this job over with so he could rush back to Mikleo’s side – but, as he had come to learn, a guild mission involved a lot of wandering around and waiting on one’s aching heels for something to happen. Maybe if Sorey took a pot and spoon from the inn kitchen and walked around the town banging on it, the vampire would be frightened out of hiding. Maybe it was not vampires that reacted that way, but bears. Maybe this mission would be less tedious, if not less stupid, if it was a vampire bear.

Sorey groaned and continued his patrol through the streets. It had been hours, and still nothing. They could be at this for days, if not weeks, if the vampire didn’t decide to strike. There would be no sneaking off to visit Mikleo during the day with Alisha and Rose on watch. There would be nothing to do but wait, and watch, and pine.

He heard a howl from the surrounding forest. A howl, coming from a dead and empty forest – that was enough to make him perk up his ears and hurry toward the source of the sound. He found himself quickly joined by Rose as he reached the town’s edge.

“You heard it too?” Sorey asked, eagerly. “Do you think it’s here? There’s nothing in the forest, so maybe it’s a ploy to--”

“Shh!” Rose peered into the woods, then surveyed her surroundings. She slowly drew her silver blade, then cast another glance into the woods.

“…Sorey. Do you see anything around here?”

Sorey looked around, craned his ears to hear anything but the sounds of the wind in the trees.

“…nothing.”

Rose squinted into the trees again, and started toward them. “Go back on patrol, I’m going to check out that noise.”

Sorey was about to protest, but his objection was interrupted by a loud, shrill whistle on the breeze. Alisha’s signal that she’d found something. Rose cast one last look back into the trees, then doubled back to rush to Alisha’s aid. Sorey followed, and they soon found themselves at the scene.

It was a small, poor cottage at the edge of town, and had clearly been hit hard by the famine. Rose had briefed him and Alisha on the purpose of the mysterious offerings the poor townspeople left on their windowsills and doorsteps – the offering of anemone flowers was untouched, but the window was shattered. The residents of the cottage, an old man, a young woman, and a young girl, were all visible as they approached. On the grass at the cottage’s front, the young woman was desperately trying to stop the bleeding from the deep wounds that covered the man, and the girl gazed at the scene from the shattered window in terror.

“What happened?” Rose demanded. “Where’d the other hunter go?”

The old man groaned and pointed feebly into the woods. “We…forgot our offering to the guardian sprite…the window, then…the hunter, into the forest…”

The young woman clenched her teeth, and shouted at the young girl to get away from the window and lock herself away inside. The girl scurried away from the window, and the woman gave her attention to Rose and Sorey.

“My father opened the window after dark to leave our offering to the town guardian, and—and that demon grabbed him, dragged him through the window, like it weren’t nothing. That hunter heard the commotion and she scrapped with the demon until it dropped him, then they both ran off into the forest--”

That was all Rose needed, apparently. She took off like a shot into the trees where the man was pointing. Sorey looked from the trees to the bleeding man, ripped with indecision – he badly needed medical attention, but Alisha and Rose needed his support. He grit his teeth and unfastened his pack hastily, handing it to the woman.

“There’s bandages and salves in there. Get inside and stay safe until we come back!”

With that, Sorey ran after Rose. They’d have to act fast and hope the town guards heard the commotion to get that man to the doctor – if not, he’d bleed out, and the town would have yet another victim to add to its sorrows. Sorey crashed through the trees, trying to follow the flashes of red through the dark to keep on Rose’s trail. They followed a wild and winding path through the trees, Rose being lead on by – her instincts? Her tracking skills? Sorey didn’t have time to think or question, he just ran, trying not to trip on the gnarled roots that curled underfoot.

For how much of his life had been affected by them, Sorey had only gotten up close and personal with vampires a few times. The first, he couldn’t remember – his young mother had collapsed on the guild doorstep and died that night from her wounds, barely managing to bring him into the world before she passed out of it. She had been the only escapee from a vampire attack on a travelling caravan, and Gramps had taken Sorey in then and there as his own – tiny, weak, sick Sorey, who barely clung to life himself those first few days. It was then that they set him in the same cradle as Mikleo, another orphaned adoptee of Gramps’. Sorey had been told by the old guard guild members that it had made all the difference. Curled beside Mikleo, tiny hand in tiny hand, he began to grow by leaps and bounds (with an appetite to match). He grew from a sickly infant to a healthy young boy, and remained inseparable from Mikleo. They shared everything, from food, to books, to bed, and Sorey fully intended to share the rest of his life with him as well – he knew nothing else.

Which, of course, was the problem when that awful night arrived.

It was unthinkable – that vampires would stage a coordinated attack on the guild headquarters itself. Zenrus’ quarters were their main target, Sorey and Mikleo were caught in the crossfire. It was dark, and everything happened so quickly. One moment, he and Mikleo were cowering together, locked away in their room…the door was being broken down, letting in the screams and the stench of blood. Mikleo had looked at him, then. He grabbed him with shocking strength, and shoved him into the closet before Sorey could react. The lock clicked shut from the outside as Sorey struggled against the latch and wailed Mikleo’s name, and then came the sound of the room’s door finally giving way. Sorey heard Mikleo scream for Gramps, then scream for anyone, then scream, and scream, and scream.

By the time help arrived, the vampire had escaped with Mikleo out the window. The guild members found Sorey in the room’s closet, his throat screamed hoarse, his fists and shoulders swollen and bruised with his futile attempts to break loose. They had lost so many people that day, but the guild members had always told Sorey that they mourned the loss of Mikleo the most. They discovered and tried those who had worked with the vampires to grant them the permission they needed to enter, but none of that brought Mikleo back. None of it could stop the sound of Mikleo’s screams in Sorey’s nightmares.

The first time Sorey saw a vampire in person was when he saw Mikleo last night – the third time Mikleo had saved his life thus far. It was well-known that vampires had evolved to take on the appearance of great beauty in human aesthetic standards, and with a baseline of Mikleo, any vampire Sorey would meet would have some stiff competition measuring up. As he and Rose finally caught up to Alisha, Sorey saw that not all vampires were created equal.

This creature’s mouth seemed to split its face to its ears. Rows of fangs were on display as it grinned at its new guests. It cracked its neck to one side, then the other, then the other – twisting its head upside-down like an owl. Its wild hair was the color of dry straw, and its pale skin was streaked with bright red blood; from the man it had tried to make a meal out of, and from Alisha, who stood wounded but defiant, still clutching her silver spear even as the vampire’s gnarled, clawed hands held her by the neck against a tree.

The vampire cackled a high, shrill laugh as it saw Rose and Sorey raise their weapons. It twisted its head back upright with a sickening snap, and let its tongue loll out over one row of fangs.

“More meals, delivered right to my doorstep? How generous!” the vampire cackled. “Is your guild trying to make amends for hunting us?”

Rose’s hand dove for her holy water phials, and cursed. She signaled to Sorey to give her his pack, and he saw her face tighten when he showed her its absence. She scanned the surrounding forest, seeming to look for something – something that wasn’t there. Her hand twitched. Sorey knew she was a crack shot with throwing knives, but it would take more than a few knives to bring down a vampire before it could tighten its grip on Alisha’s neck, or escape off into the trees and make their whole mission, and the deaths of all those people, completely meaningless.

Sorey stepped forward, hands in the air. The moment he opened his mouth, a familiar voice rang strong and firm through the trees.

“Stand down.”

The vampire’s pupils contracted and it hissed aloud, as if struck by a sudden great pain. Sorey’s eyes went wide, and he whipped around to the source of the noise. There was nothing there – nothing but trees and the dark of the night.

The vampire continued to hiss and growl through the convulsions that began to wrack its body, and it made a sudden move to snap down on Alisha’s neck.

The voice came again.

“By the name of your queen, you are ordered to stand down!”

The vampire stopped with its fangs against Alisha’s neck, unable to move another inch. It trembled, hissing and growling, drool beginning to leak from its maw.

“Set the human down.”

Alisha was lowered to the ground stiffly, the vampire struggling against the command every inch of the way.

“Drop to your knees.”

The vampire’s legs gave out. It clawed helplessly at the tree trunk, trying to right itself, but it was as if its bottom half was made of stone.  The vampire let out an awful, ear-shattering shriek; Sorey and Rose clasped their hands over their ears in pain.

“And shut _up_.”

The vampire’s voice gave out instantly. Its mouth remained open, soundlessly shrieking.

“Hunters. Take your companion and go back to the village. We will deal with him as we see fit.”

“I don’t _think_ so.” Rose stepped forward, aiming her voice in the general direction of their unseen guest. “That thing has taken the lives of half a dozen people, and badly injured a dozen more. We’re taking him down now. Thanks for the assist, but believe me, I know your kind – you’re just gonna give him a pat on the head and let him scurry off again.”

“We are aware of his crimes and will try him in accordance to our laws. Hunters, leave this place now.”

Sorey couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Mikleo! Please!” he outburst. “Don’t do this, just – come with us, we’ll get you away from whoever is making you do this--”

Maybe outing Mikleo’s disguise wasn’t the best plan, but after all they’d been through, after all vampires had _done_ to the humanity and the guild and to Sorey and to _Mikleo_ , having Mikleo be their mouthpiece was like a dagger to his heart. He wanted so desperately to believe that Mikleo had no part of this town’s woes, but he was finding it harder and harder to have that confidence.

He felt Rose’s heavy gaze on him. Sorey buried his head in his hands.

The absence of Mikleo’s voice could almost be physically felt.

“I swear by the name of the queen, hunters, that this individual will be given a full and fair trial. Please leave this place and care for your companion’s wounds.”

Rose went to Alisha’s side, and hosted her onto her shoulder. She gave Sorey a long, steady look.

“…and I would recommend, Hunter Rose, to keep your conferences with your werewolf companion under better wraps. I doubt your guild would approve.”

Rose froze in her tracks. Sorey turned the words over and over in his head – some of Rose’s stranger behavior did start to make sense with that information.

“I will take this individual and also my leave. Safe travels.”

Sorey felt a gentle, fleeting caress to his cheek. In a moment, the vampire was enveloped in a strange, spectral cloak, and vanished.

Rose deliberately avoided his gaze. “Come on. We gotta get this one and that old man to the town doctor.”


End file.
